by Gold, Ciara
She finished changing clothes and padded barefoot to the dresser. She washed her face in the basin of fresh water then attacked her hair with the brush, trying to tame some of the frizzy curls. A tug here and a yank there finally saw the tangles brought to a minimum. With that chore completed, she crept into bed and pulled the coverlet up to her chin.
She let Bryce know she was ready, and he took his turn at the basin of water. Afterwards, he pulled off his boots and turned out the kerosene lamp. He lay on the palette fully clothed.
The soft bed should have lured her immediately to sleep, but her senses seemed tuned to his every movement. She should be upset with Bryce for his highhanded manner, for presuming she needed his protection. She should, but she wasn’t. His kindness was unsettling, and his attention toward her, unnerving. He seemed so unlike the men she’d known. So unlike Sarge. Completely different from James Latham.
James Latham. As she lay in bed, memories washed over her. She hadn’t allowed herself to think about James since she’d seen him last. Today put a period on a very long sentence. James had tried to kill her, and he’d ended up dead instead.
Curled on her left side facing away from Bryce, she played over the events of the day in her mind. She pictured James’s crumpled body, the wedding band gleaming on his pinky finger. A single tear rolled down her cheek, and she tossed to her other side. Unable to stop the memories once they’d begun, her tears flowed more freely. She flipped back over, not wanting Bryce to know of her distress.
With each movement, the ropes holding the mattress made a groaning sound. Realizing that the noise probably kept Bryce from sleep, she tried to force her body to relax. The attempt proved futile. More memories of James flooded her mind. She pitched about restlessly with each new thought, each sordid reflection.
The mattress gave as Bryce climbed into bed beside her. Very gently, he rubbed her back. “Tell me about it?”
At his genuine concern, tears poured from her eyes. She said nothing about the impropriety of his presence beside her. It felt too good to have his gentle touch soothing her tense muscles.
“You’ll feel much better if’n you share your pain.” His soft words caressed her soul.
“I...I never cry.” Her voice broke with pent-up emotion. “Never.” Her weakness in front of Bryce made her cry even harder. What was wrong with her?
His hand stilled on her back for a moment. “I’m surprised you lasted this long without showin’ any emotion. It’s hard to imagine someone wantin’ you dead, especially someone you knew.”
“Oh God, how could he?” She wiped her face. “James tried to kill me and now he’s dead.”
“Sssh. I know.”
“I was once engaged to be married. Did I ever tell you that? Of course not. No one would believe a woman like me could be engaged to a handsome, gregarious man, but I was. He swept me off my feet with such promises. They were all lies. All lies.” She sniffed.
“You sell yourself short, Katy. You’re a very dynamic woman, a woman a man would be lucky to call wife.”
“You’re sweet to say so. James would say the same things, only he never meant any of them.”
“James? Latham was your fiancé?”
“That ring on his pinky was to have been my wedding band.” At this, a fresh bout of tears erupted. She was powerless to stem the flow of emotion.
“Why would your fiancé want you dead? Why would anyone want you dead?”
“I...I don’t know. Honest. Oh God, my life seems so messed up.”
Bryce dangled a handkerchief in front of her face, and she grabbed it gratefully. She blew her nose in a most unladylike fashion, wondering what had possessed her to tell him about James.
“I’d say he wasn’t a very bright man to ruin a chance to be married to you.”
She rolled over to face him and punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t say things you can’t possibly mean just because you think I want to hear them.”
Bryce pushed a curl from her face. Her eyes felt puffy and bruised. It was a good thing the light had been extinguished, and he couldn’t see her tear-stained features.
He brought his face close to hers. “You should know by now I don’t lie. What I say, I mean.”
She didn’t know how to answer him. “Kiss me, Bryce. Make me forget what he tried to do,” she whispered.
“No. That’s the last thing you need from me right now. Go to sleep, Katy. Things will look better in the morning.”
“You—you don’t want me either.” She turned on her side. “It’s okay. I understand.”
“No, you don’t understand.” He kissed the back of her neck. “I want you too much. If I kiss you now, while you’re hurting and vulnerable, you’ll hate me in the morning, cuz I don’t think I can stop at just kissin’.” His rough fingers stroked her cheek.
She turned her head and kissed the inside of his palm, grateful for his kindness. She’d been wrong about Bryce. He wasn’t anything like James. She closed her eyes, sure she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Bryce stayed by her side, fully clothed on top of the covers, but sometime during the night, he’d wrapped his arms around her and drew her close to him. It was his willingness to just hold her that thawed the ice around her heart. With Bryce near, she wasn’t afraid of the ghosts that haunted her memories.
Twenty One
A full moon illuminated the entrance to the Silver Saddle Ranch. The massive archway was meant to impress. Whoever Sarge was, he’d done well for himself.
Bryce pulled his horse alongside Kaitlin’s as she gazed at the panoramic view of gently rolling knolls, an impressively large herd of cattle, and various outbuildings silhouetted against the moonlit sky. In the far distance, on top of a hill, Bryce could just make out the dark shape of what must be the main house.
They’d already been to town, which turned out to be nothing more than a glorified mining camp. There they alerted another lawman of James Latham’s death. Kaitlin had been asked several questions, but none she answered to his own satisfaction. With the man dead, Bryce hoped her troubles would end. Unfortunately, he wasn’t convinced that she was free from harm. Until he knew why James wanted her dead, Bryce would remain her constant companion.
After visiting with the local authorities, Kaitlin headed out of town. Curious, he tagged along. Though he expected her to protest, she said nothing about his desire to shadow her movements.
Without a word, Kaitlin pulled away from the allure of the ranch and headed down an overgrown path. They traveled northeast, skirting the outer perimeter of the ranch. Bryce had plenty of questions, but he remained silent, strangely content to follow Kaitlin’s lead.
He should be upset for having to take the time to assist Kaitlin, especially since she didn’t seem to appreciate his help. He figured another month, and he’d have to get back to the Double S Ranch. His brother William would be anxious for his return. At this rate, he doubted he would be bringing home a bride, and it didn’t look like Kaitlin was anxious to offer Charley a permanent home.
For Charley’s sake, he’d tried to find a suitable woman, but the courting thing just hadn’t worked out. He’d taken several eligible young ladies for buggy rides, bought them dinner at various restaurants, and even strolled through the local park with a few. They were all pretty women, but none had any lick of sense. The few he’d spent any time with couldn’t seem to hold his interest for very long. Like any man, he was taken by a pretty face and trim ankle, but tired of them easily when he discovered they lacked substance.
He stole a glance at Kaitlin. She perched upon the horse like she’d been born riding. The skill with which she maneuvered the animal seemed inconsistent with the prim spinster he’d come to know. He’d never met a woman so full of arrogant pride or so versatile with her abilities. Yet, it was her bold tenacity that fired his imagination. Kaitlin would not welcome his affections, but he found his thoughts straying in that direction. She would make some man one hell of a wife.
The kiss they’d shared promp
ted him to reevaluate Kaitlin as a possible mate. Never before had a single kiss held the power to make his insides buck like a fresh bronc. If one kiss could stir his blood, then a lifetime waking up with Kaitlin in his arms was bound to be an exciting ride.
From what he could gather, Kaitlin adamantly opposed marriage. Her confession about James Latham gave him some clue as to why, but failed to give him the full reason. If he could pry more information from her, he might be able to change her mind. Once the thought took hold, he couldn’t shake it loose. He could think of no other who would suit as his wife. Of all the challenges he had taken on, she would be the most difficult by far. He grinned, enjoying the way her body moved in rhythm with the horse’s steady gait.
Another half-hour saw them to their final destination. Kaitlin pulled up in front of a small log cabin. In the distance, a wolf howled, lending an eerie cadence to their arrival. An inch of packed snow covered the ground, a cold welcome for the weary travelers.
Kaitlin seemed oblivious to the frigid invitation depicted by the darkened cabin. Apprehensive, Bryce tied his horse to the hitching post, pulled his saddlebag free, and followed Kaitlin inside. An icy chill enveloped the gloomy interior. The wind whipping through a cracked window shrieked across his eardrums.
“I think your ghosts have invaded.” His dry remark won him a soft laugh that filled him with longing.
Kaitlin found a lantern and trimmed the wick with a pair of scissors she pulled from her saddlebag. In the corner sat a jug of kerosene that she used to fill the reservoir. Striking a match, she lit the wick and snapped the globe into place. Light did nothing to help the sparsely furnished interior.
“I’ll start a fire,” Bryce said, glad to see a pile of wood in the corner. “Why don’t you try to sweep away some of this debris?”
Kaitlin stiffened. “Because sweeping is a woman’s job?” She shoved the broom toward Bryce. “You sweep, and I’ll start a fire.”
Bryce accepted the broom without comment. There was no point in arguing about it. Both chores needed doing, and Bryce was bone tired. Arguing would only prolong the end result, but he wondered what caused her surly tone. Three nights ago he’d held a tempting woman in his arms, one he entertained thoughts of marrying, and they’d managed civil, even friendly conversations over the last two days of hard riding. Today, that same woman acted prickly and short-tempered as if the past three days had never existed. He gripped the broom handle, allowing his frustration to release during the simple chore. Dust clouds floated about the room as he angrily swept the floor clean of what looked to be years of neglect.
When the floor was as clean as it was going to get for the evening, Bryce set the broom back in the corner. A quick glance at Kaitlin reassured him she had managed the fire fine without his help.
They were in a sitting room that boasted one table with three rickety chairs. Off to the side was another room he assumed to be a bedroom. With the fire going in the fireplace, Bryce commandeered the one lantern to investigate.
Setting the lamp on a small bedside table, he retrieved the broom and set about sweeping this room as well. It was a nice sized area with a double bed and a crude wardrobe. Someone had covered the mattress with a large blanket. He pulled the blanket off and went outside to shake it free of dust and debris. When he returned, he found Kaitlin preparing a tin meal of beans and biscuits.
Thus far, she had surprised him with her outdoor knowledge, and he said as much.
She gave him a condescending look. “Contrary to what you may have assumed, I spent the better part of my youth on a ranch. I’m quite capable of handling myself out in the open country.”
“Like you handled yourself when that man shot at you.”
His quiet words made her catch her breath, and she shifted in her chair. “This alliance we’ve formed won’t work if we don’t set some ground rules.”
“Your rules or mine? As I recall we’ve already put a set of rules in motion. You have a mighty short memory.” The last few nights she’d seemed almost amicable to the situation. What had happened to change things?
“I think you like being purposefully ornery.”
“Well, now. There’s ornery and then there’s ornery. I like to think of myself as bein’ stubborn as a mule on pack day. The minute I met you, I sensed a mystery. I can’t stand not knowing all the facts, so I’ll do what’s needed until those answers become known. It’s a quirk of mine, a flaw in my personality. So, if’n it bothers you to have me meddle in your business, I’ll apologize now, but it won’t stop me.”
“That grin of yours isn’t going to charm me into revealing anything. Besides, I can be just as stubborn.” She inclined her head and swallowed another bite of beans. “I know I can’t make you leave. But the least you can do is stay low. I don’t need you tagging along, following after me like a puppy.”
“A puppy, am I? Dogs do much better when they’re rewarded,” he suggested lazily. “Dogs like to be petted and hugged. What reward are you offerin’?”
She leaned forward, smiling brightly. “Dogs that don’t mind get swatted. I promise not to beat you over the head with a shoe.”
“Well now, that’s reassurin’.” Bryce laughed. “It’s hard to picture a beautiful woman wieldin’ a shoe. Although I do recall getting’ smacked with my hat.”
“You deserved that whack.” The bright smile faded quickly from her face. “I don’t care for false flattery. You and I both know I’m rather plain.”
“To a blind man, perhaps. But I happen to have both eyes wide open, and what I see is far from plain.”
His compliment must have frazzled her, for she began clearing the table. Her hurried movements indicated her nervous agitation. He stared at his empty can of beans and grinned. Maybe, just maybe, he could convince Kaitlin marriage might just be in her best interest after all. It would sure solve both his problems with Charley. Charley would be close to her aunt, and he’d have a wife.
Twenty Two
Maggie poured Jack another cup of coffee, while Charley sat in sullen silence. She shook her head, wondering if that child would ever lose her fierce pride long enough to enjoy a simple meal.
Jack glanced up from the article he read. His face bore a troubled look. She sensed he knew something that would hurt her if he shared it. She gave him an encouraging smile, communicating silently her desire to be there for him. He smiled back at her. Maggie beamed, basking in their newfound love.
“That was a mighty fine breakfast, Miss Maggie, and I shore does appreciate you invitin’ me over.”
“You’re most welcome.”
“Yuk. Can’t you two make gooshy eyes at each other somewhere other than the dining room?” Charley complained.
Jack frowned at her rudeness. “If’n you don’t like it, best excuse yourself from da table.”
“I don’t have to take orders from the likes of you,” Charley snapped, daring Jack to correct her again with a hateful eye.
Maggie froze. She could sense the tension. Jack’s hands tightened around the paper, and she knew what it cost him to ignore Charley’s cruel remark. But neither she, nor Jack had the authority to correct the child as they wanted. The racial bigots in town wouldn’t take kindly to a black person taking a white child to task.
“Chile, I reckon you don’t at that, but you best look to your manners. No one should talk that rudely to their elders no matter what color they be.”
Maggie admired Jack’s restraint and wondered if Charley understood his meaning. She rather doubted it. Charley was still young, and impressionable. With the right influence, she might be taught to change some of her more hypocritical views. It would be difficult though, for someone had done a thorough job teaching her about social prejudices, and not in a good way.
“Charley, a man earns his place in society, and it doesn’t matter what color he wears. People will learn to respect him for what he makes of himself. Jack holds a position of dignity in this town. He made money off the gold rush, and he’s invested
it back into the community. He doesn’t deserve censure from a child,” Maggie admonished, adding to Jack’s persuasive speech.
Charley tilted her head, her gold curls bouncing against her neck. “My momma told me different. She said I wasn’t to kowtow to no black folk lessen I wanted to be just like ’em.”
“Do you think it’s possible for a person to be wrong about something?” Maggie asked.
Charley mulled the question around for a moment. “I suppose, but I don’t like to think my momma was wrong. She was usually right about most stuff.”
“Do you know what the word prejudice means?”
Charley shook her golden curls.
Jack pointed to the newspaper. “Prejudice means lots of things to lots of folks. It means hatin’ somethin’ or someone cuz they’re different. I’s different from you, cuz I’s got a different color of skin. That don’t make you better’n me. It just makes you and me different. People are prejudice against your aunt cuz she thinks different than them. They wanna belittle her and hurt her cuz they don’t understand her. Think that’s the way it should be?”
“No!” Charley said. “Kaitlin ain’t so bad. Not really. I’m kind of mad at her for making Bryce run off, but I don’t hate her.”
Maggie stared hard at Jack. Something else had prompted his words. She glanced at the paper and back at Jack. “What’s wrong, Jack? You’ve been down all morning, and it has something to do with Kaitlin.”
Jack pushed the newspaper her way. “We ain’t the only folks around whats got to deal with opinionated folk. That fancy talkin’ gossip columnist has taken a dislike to your Kaitlin. He’s spreadin’ all kinds of rumors, colorin’ the truth to make it seem like Kaitlin’s got no morals. Why can’t folks just mind their own business?”
“Jack?”
“I don’t agree with your views on liquor and such. A man works hard all day, and he expects to relax a little at night. I ain’t so sure ’bout the votin’ thing either, but then, I ain’t never been able to vote, so maybe I do understand you women better than I think. Still, there ain’t no call for that reporter to go spreadin’ half truths in this here newspaper. No call at all.”